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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068755">Filth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_smear/pseuds/red_smear'>red_smear</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shitty Boy Corner [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hades (Video Game 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Begging, Convenient Lube, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Intercrural Sex, Light Dom/sub, Literal God-Powered Aphrodisiac, M/M, Mentions of Than/Zag/Meg, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Stop Catty Banter, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Wall Sex, Zag Can Switch, Zag is a Huge Sub</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 00:22:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,033</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_smear/pseuds/red_smear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“My ultimate point is this, daemon: that in an epic act of sacrifice, I shall permit you to pleasure me with your terrible body.  A besmirchment though it may be!”<br/>In the silence that follows, a muffled roar rises within the arena.  The Lethe whispers by.  Faint, sweet Elysian music tinkles in the distance.<br/>“...What,” says the daemon.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asterius | The Minotaur/Theseus (Hades Video Game), Theseus/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shitty Boy Corner [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>909</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. bargain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>everyone consents but in an "ugh I can't believe I'm doing this" kind of way.</p><p>edit: SOMEONE MADE FANART, I'M SO EXCITED would you look at this? https://twitter.com/shushsiggy/status/1324797512125943811?s=20<br/>I love the colors and the shading on the skin and their expressions...perfect!!  thank you shushsiggy!!</p><p>edit2: MORE FANART, some gorgeous COMICS of a couple moments from the fic!!  I'm in love!  https://twitter.com/darkmodeproxy/status/1328207896920911882?s=20</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Listen,” says the red-blooded daemon.  “It’s been a long...day.  Night?  <em> Ugh.  </em>My point is...I don’t think I can stave off death on sheer willpower anymore.  I just need a drink from a fountain and a change of keepsake and I’ll be good as new, so how about you let me through this one time, and I’ll...do you a favor.  How about that?”</p><p>Theseus gasps in outrage at the mere suggestion.  This <em> fiend!  </em> First he tries to sneak around the arena like a coward, and now, having been caught, he seeks to <em> bribe </em> his way out of an honorable contest?  <em> Disgusting.  </em></p><p>But then, he would expect nothing less from this lowly creature.  Everything about him looks out of place in Elysium, from the gaudy tunic (likely stolen) to his feet, singeing the tender moss beneath them.  Not only that, but he’s <em> disheveled </em>.  Even moreso than usual.  With distaste, Theseus takes in the wild shock of hair, the burns and scratches on his corded forearms, the dried blood streaking an angular cheekbone, the sweat...glistening in the hollow of his throat....</p><p>“King!”</p><p>Theseus’ gaze snaps back up to the daemon’s face, those glaring mismatched eyes.  Smoldering, even.  With a strange energy that could be anger, or…</p><p>
  <em> Something else? </em>
</p><p>But yes, of course...it all begins to become clear.  Perhaps their meeting in this secluded alcove is no accident, after all.</p><p>“If you’ve made me wait this long for an answer just to tell me you don’t take favors from <em> ‘daemons’ </em>, you can spare your breath,” says the daemon. “I just thought I’d ask.”</p><p>“Oh, I know what it is you <em> thought </em>you would do!”</p><p>“...Is that so.”</p><p>“Indeed!  I had assumed that you could only feel the base passion of hatred, but there are other base passions to which you are not immune...is that not right?”</p><p>“Are you going somewhere with this?”</p><p>In his resentment of Theseus’ many victories, he feigns ignorance. Once again it falls to Theseus to be the better man.  “My ultimate point is this, daemon: that in an epic act of sacrifice, I <em> shall </em>permit you to pleasure me with your terrible body.  A besmirchment though it may be!”</p><p>In the silence that follows, a muffled roar rises within the arena.  The Lethe whispers by.  Faint, sweet Elysian music tinkles in the distance.</p><p>“...What,” says the daemon.</p><p>“There is no need to thank me!”</p><p>“<em> What? </em>”</p><p>“Although by <em> not </em>thanking me, you expose your true, deplorable nature.”</p><p>The daemon scowls and rakes a hand through his hair; Theseus muses again on its wild spikes, how easy it would be to knot a fist in it and <em> pull </em>…</p><p>...In battle, of course.</p><p>“I was going to offer you <em> nectar </em>.  I’m now reminded of why I have literally never done so before.”</p><p>Theseus would have thought a daemon would be better at lying.  Why, it’s almost pitiable.  “<em> Certainly </em> you should be ashamed of many things, blackguard...but in this respect, you stand alongside <em> many </em> estimable Grecians!”</p><p>“In <em> what </em> respect.”</p><p>“In your desire to please me sexually, obviously!  Or, should you wish instead to deny your desires, I shall withdraw my tremendous offer and you shall face me and Asterius as usual!  I care not!”</p><p>The daemon opens his mouth in a rage, but seems to catch himself.  His face twists.  “...You think I’m offering to get you off...in order to avoid restarting my attempt?  Even though I’d only be losing a measly fifteen minutes by fighting my way up here again?”</p><p>Theseus doesn’t answer, just folds his arms, waiting for the daemon to answer his own question.</p><p>--</p><p>It’s not as though it would even save him that much time.  He could visit the mirror...maybe catch Dusa for a chat in the lounge...  And anyway, these days even Lernie isn’t so hard to beat…</p><p>But.</p><p>Zagreus truly doesn’t want to start over after all this.  And besides, if he can just get his hands on one more boon from Lord Poseidon, he might even make it all the way out this time.  He’d hate to lose that.</p><p>He’s just also not certain he could make it through another round against the bull and the king.</p><p>Zagreus spares said king a guarded look.  Well-muscled.  Shiny as ever.  Not terrible to look at, if you ignore the incorrigible arrogance.  And maybe he’ll shut up if...sufficiently distracted.  Zagreus happens to have some confidence in that area; he’s even made Meg lose her words to pleasure, from time to time.</p><p>All that said, with Meg it’s a simple badge of honor.  Here, it will be an absolute necessity.</p><p>He looks up, decision made, and the widening grin on Theseus’ face tells him he’s been read like a book.  Curse him.</p><p>“...I agree to your deal, king.”</p><p>“I believe you mean <em> your </em>deal!”</p><p>Zagreus pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Don’t make me regret this more than I already do.”</p><p>“Pshaw!  On your knees, filth.  It is the appropriate place for you anyway.”</p><p>It rankles, but Zagreus does as he’s told, eyeing the king’s already somewhat tented tunic.  For someone who professes to find him abjectly disgusting, Theseus is remarkably eager.  “You know,” he says, situating his knees on the thickest patch of moss he can find, “the Fury Tisiphone makes more of an effort to use my name, and the only word she knows is <em> murder </em>.”</p><p>“Hah!” Theseus scoffs.  “Do not compare a mere servant of Tartarus to the Champion of Elysium! I commit only the names of the great and good to my memory!”</p><p>Zagreus stares at him in open disbelief.  “<em> Servant? </em>  She’s an Erinye, you absolute--”</p><p>A hand grips him by the hair and pulls him face-first into Theseus’ groin.  “This is a great privilege,” says the king, holding him there.  “You ought not to spoil it by receiving it ungratefully!”</p><p><em> “Of course.  How silly of me,” </em> Zagreus mutters, muffled by sweat-smelling cloth.  His cheek is pressed awkwardly against Theseus’ erection, and he half-expects the man to simply start grinding against his face.  Does he do this with <em> all </em>his lovers?  He hopes not, but gods help him he wouldn’t be surprised.</p><p>But, fine.  Alright.  Zagreus angles his head to mouth the king’s cock through his tunic, and feels him twitch in response.  He tries the coaxing, romantic kisses that always work so well on Than, and after a few moments receives a choked, almost pained groan from on high.  The hand in his hair tightens, and--trembles?  Zagreus is half shocked, half amused--how long has Theseus been lusting after him, to be this pent up?  No reason to continue over the clothes, then.  He seems to have done all the foreplay in his head already.</p><p>Theseus snorts when Zagreus lifts his tunic.  “As expected!  You are altogether too eager, daemon!  True, you are tempted with grandeur, but still, your lack of self-restraint is--aa--<em> aahhhh--! </em>”</p><p>Zagreus knows better than to speak with his mouth full, but his quiet chuckle must have said it all.  When next he glances up, there’s an angry flush on Theseus’ face.  Not a bad look.</p><p>He pulls back, licks his lips consideringly.  “Seems like this won’t take long, King.  I give you...two minutes at most.”</p><p>“How--how <em> dare </em>you!  Where is your gratitude?”</p><p>“Right here.”  <em> Loudmouth.  </em>Zagreus dips back down, more intent than before.  Finish him fast, move on to the surface, lord it over him for the rest of your days (or nights).  Easy.</p><p>--</p><p>The daemon does something with his tongue that dissolves all Theseus' objections.  He exhales an involuntary moan and pushes deeper into the monster’s mouth.  Witty retorts can wait.  <em> This </em> is how it should be.  He shouldn’t have to watch the daemon’s sloppy, shameful displays of martial skill, shouldn’t have to deal with his insolence.  He should instead <em> know his place </em>...on his knees, before a heroic king.  Although there are other positions that would be just as appropriate…</p><p>The thought sparks something in his mind--an unbidden flood of tantalizing images.  The daemon on his back, legs spread, ready to receive him.  Kneeling just like this, but--in Theseus’ chariot, perhaps, pleasuring him in full armor.  Bent over a bed, surrounded by Theseus’ finery, spectacularly envious.  Moaning aloud, praising him, overcome by his skill and power.  Calling him <em> My King </em>...</p><p>Theseus pulls out, panting.  He has always prided himself on his stamina as a lover.  He’s received attention from men and women alike (simultaneously, on occasion) and <em> always </em> made it a point of pride to last.  How is it, then, that engaged thus with his most reviled foe, his body would almost betray him as it did in his youth?</p><p>It takes him a moment to master himself, averting his eyes casually from the daemon at his feet.  True, he has pictured the sight before in his mind’s eye, usually after one of the monster’s ill-deserved victories.  Had thought it natural, to imagine one’s foe penitent and submissive.  And yet, to see it in life, the effect it has…  The new scenes it conjures...</p><p>Theseus chances a look.  The daemon raises an eyebrow at him, wiping his mouth with a scuffed forearm.  “Changed your mind at the last second?  What, do you make an ugly face when you…  Or rather, does your face get even uglier?”</p><p>“In my generosity,” Theseus says slowly, “I believe I will allow you to experience me <em> fully </em>.”</p><p>“...Is that so.”  The daemon seems less than overcome.  Theseus frowns down at him.</p><p>“Unless you think my girth too much for you!  Often is this the case, with...<em> lesser men. </em>”</p><p>--</p><p>Perhaps it’s pure spite, born of the knowledge that he’s taken far larger from Meg’s vast collection (literally a day or night ago, even).  Perhaps it’s stupidity, born from his own (blessedly hidden) cockstand.  Perhaps he just <em> really </em>doesn’t want to restart his journey up from Tartarus.</p><p>Whatever the reason, Zagreus finds himself with his hands pressed to a cool stone wall, hips thrown back, waiting for his least favorite person in the underworld to fuck him.</p><p>When he turns around to ask how Theseus expects to get inside smoothly, the king is somehow already uncorking a bottle of oil.</p><p>“I’m sorry, you just--have that on you?  Ready to go?  With whom are you even--”  Zagreus pauses, squinting over his shoulder at the king.  Actually, it’s obvious, isn’t it?  Who else can even put up with the man.  “You...and Asterius?  You two just spend your free time…  How does that even work?  Not that I’m judging, but--ah, hey!!”</p><p>“You object, monster?”  Theseus’ hand, jammed unexpectedly under Zagreus’ tunic, finds the waistline of his leggings and yanks them down around his thighs.  “You are so rude as to speculate on the nature of my...relationship with Asterius, and yet you desire courtesy in return?”</p><p>“Just…”  Zagreus purses his lips.  Damn his penchant for rough handling.  “...Warn me.”</p><p>“Very well, daemon!  Then I warn you that you are about to experience surpassing pleasure of which you are deeply undeserving!”</p><p>He <em> is </em> better with his fingers than Zagreus would have expected.  And it doesn’t hurt to be standing against a wall in the open air, leggings down, ready to be mounted.  It’s new...strange.  Exciting.</p><p><em> And maybe you can convince Meg to punish you for it later, </em>whispers a hot little voice in the back of his mind.  Curse that stupid voice--if all the blood in his body hadn’t already gone between his legs, that thought would’ve taken care of the last of it.</p><p>He’s...going to have to deal with that later.  Privately.</p><p>--</p><p>The daemon is pleasantly easy to work open.  Receptive.  He hasn’t spoken in a minute, providing a welcome respite from his jibes and manipulations.  Theseus adds another well-oiled finger, reveling in his own magnificent generosity and...the view.  From here, he can see every hitch of breath, the faintest flush painting the daemon’s nape, the way his tunic has begun to slip down over his shoulder.  </p><p>“I don’t need <em> that </em> much work,” the daemon grouses.  “You’re just--<em>nh</em>--dragging things out, now.”</p><p>And there it is--his true nature, inviting punishment here just as it does on the battlefield.  Theseus crooks his fingers and watches the insolent monster squirm from it.  Again.  Again.  Each time, the reward of the daemon’s shameless reaction, sharpening Theseus’ mind into a keen arrowpoint of need.  “Then perhaps we have discovered your true purpose!  Though you have nothing to offer as a warrior--”</p><p>“In <em> your </em>opinion.”</p><p>“<em>Though you have nothing to offer in that regard </em>...even so you may have a natural skill!” Theseus grasps himself, heart pounding with anticipation.  “Though it may yet come to pass that I am too much for you!  Is that not so?”</p><p>A baleful red eye flashes back at him, sending a not-unpleasant shudder down Theseus’ back.  “Would you just do it already?”</p><p>“If you insist, foul beast!”</p><p>By the gods...how did it come to this?  Bestowing his divine physique upon his mortal enemy?  He pushes in slowly, feeling every throb, every inch of snug, slick heat.  The daemon takes it with barely a shiver, but his withdrawal induces a strangled whine.  The sound is...<em>compelling. </em>   Is this the power of Tartarus, to summon primordial lust from man’s deepest vestiges?  How <em> depraved.   </em></p><p>...How essential, that he test the limits of this power.</p><p>He thrusts again, starts to build a rhythm that produces moan after moan from that impudent mouth.  Overcome once again by temptation, Theseus reaches out to tangle his fingers in the daemon’s hair.</p><p>“Quite fitting, don’t you think, daemon?  That, <em>ngh</em>--that in shamefully abandoning our, <em>nhaa</em>--our <em> battle</em>, you should still end up pierced by my spear?”  He punctuates the question with a particularly aggressive thrust, and revels in the resulting cry.  “It is an uncommon gift, the spear of a king!  Altogether too fine for filth like you!”</p><p>--</p><p>Zagreus rolls his eyes, then realizes Theseus can’t see his face.  “You know, I...<em>ah, </em>I really thought you’d shut up with your <em> “spear” </em> up my <em> haaa--aaaaahhhh </em> --!”  He lets his head drop, slips from his hands to his forearms against the wall.  It’s actually <em> good</em>.  <em> Damn </em> him, he’s actually <em> good </em> at it.  “ <em> G-gods--!” </em></p><p>“What was that, daemon?”</p><p>“Er--I said...isn’t this when you usually c-call on some god or other?  P--<em>hhh</em>--perhaps Aphrodite can improve your technique?”</p><p>“<em> Hahaha!  </em> With such an addition to my already great prowess--you shall be--overwhelmed--and become disgustingly wanton!”</p><p>This <em> bastard</em>.  How many times has Zagreus killed him now?  And yet every time he pretends at ignorant superiority!  <em> Infuriating. </em></p><p><em> “T-try--mmme,” </em>he snaps.  He’s not sure why; he should’ve known the king would take him up on it.  Behind him, a grandiose prayer rises to the hidden heavens.</p><p>
  <em> “Lady Aphrodite, your pleasure!” </em>
</p><p>A suggestive giggle echoes from everywhere and nowhere.  For a moment, everything turns searing pink.  Zagreus’ body goes numb, then fills with an intense tingling, just on the edge of discomfort.  When real sensation returns, it comes with a new, exquisite sharpness that leaves him breathless for a moment.  He almost forgets Theseus’ existence until the king starts to move again.</p><p>The first thrust is less vigorous than before, almost experimental, but a moan curls from Zagreus’ traitorous mouth before he can stifle it.  And then another.  And another.  Theseus picks up speed, more urgent than before, his cries joining Zagreus in breathless harmony.  When he speaks, he can barely keep his voice steady.</p><p>“A--as I thought--  Y--your body must be--<em>specialized</em> for--for this-- <em> nh!--</em>You <em>love </em>it--!”</p><p>Zagreus opens his mouth to retort and whimpers instead, the sound coming out in hitches and jolts.  He lets his head drop again, dazed.  It’s too much.  It’s not nearly enough.  <em> “Yes--!” </em> </p><p>Theseus groans, loud and victorious, pulls his head back by the hair, bucks into him even harder.  “You agree, then!  Deplorable--filthy--hellspawn--<em>ngh!  O-oh--! </em>”</p><p>Zagreus realizes he wants to be touched, is starving for it, even in the thick of being fucked.  “<em>Mmmmore</em>,” he manages, hands clenching against the wall.</p><p>“Hah!  You--<em>hnhhh! </em>--you beg King Theseus?  For this, this--concession?”</p><p>Restraint and propriety now seem distant, unnecessary things.  Zagreus arches his back, drives himself onto Theseus, hears him gasp.  “Please.  King, please--<em> ah--! </em>”</p><p>Suddenly they’re flush together, in an overwhelming rush of heat and sensation.  A grasping hand finds his chest, tugs roughly at one nipple.  <em> “Tell me how--uhn--unworthy you are,” </em> pants Theseus in his ear.  <em> “Thank me--for--this great honor--” </em></p><p>“Thank you, King--”</p><p>“For?”</p><p>“F-for this great--”  Theseus slows for a moment, and Zagreus suddenly finds that waiting is agony.  He drives his hips back again with a whine of entreaty.  “<em> Nhaaa</em>--<em>please</em>, faster--more--”</p><p>The hand on his chest trails downward over his stomach, leaving twitching muscles in its wake.  He’s inches from Zagreus’ cock, and it takes the last of Zagreus’ self-control not to beg for his touch there, too.</p><p>And then both Theseus’ hands close on his hips.  “I shall <em>give </em> you--<em>more</em>, monster!  So long as you--show--<em>gratitude!</em>”</p><p>The new pace is breathlessly punishing.  It’s all Zagreus can do to stay upright, let alone “show gratitude”, let alone form any words at all.  His body burns hot and sweet, singing love of being touched and fucked and pleased.  He’s intensely conscious of Theseus’ heat, his smell, the weight of muscle behind every thrust.  His incoherent voice, slurred with ecstasy.</p><p>
  <em> “Nnh--this--hhh--this body--aahhh!--good for something--good monster, you--nghhh serve me well--” </em>
</p><p>Zagreus can feel himself going loose, lets his eyes roll back.  Unimportant thoughts melt away, leaving only the thrill of being held in place and used, how <em> good </em> it feels and how very close he is to coming.  The strength of the fingers digging into his flesh as the king hits a fever pitch--</p><p>“<em> H-how--do you like--angh--you, you dirty-- </em>aaAH--!”</p><p>Theseus finishes with a great, shuddering cry of triumph, clinging to Zagreus as he rides it out.  When he finally pulls out,  Zagreus drops to his knees, fumbling under his tunic, no longer concerned with privacy.  He can’t even bring himself to care when a foot lands in the middle of his back, weighing him down as he pumps frantically with one hand.  <em> Almost...almost…! </em></p><p>“<em> Filth</em>,” says Theseus, and Zagreus comes with a choked gasp, drooling and twitching under his foot.</p><p>--</p><p>It’s later.</p><p>The daemon has washed himself somewhat--with splashes from the Lethe, to Theseus’ consternation.  He himself is considering a sip from the river, purely to erase this tryst from his memory.  But then, the less trustworthy of the two of them would still remember...</p><p>Theseus regards him with narrowed eyes.  “Should you speak of this to <em> anyone </em>, daemon--”</p><p>“Of <em> this?”  </em> The daemon half-laughs.  “Oh!  Yes, I’m eager for all to know I handled the <em> biggest prick </em> in Elysium.  I’ll be telling Orpheus all about it.  He’ll compose a <em> song </em>, king.”</p><p>“Why, you--!”</p><p>“Of course I won’t tell anyone,” the daemon snaps.  “Really, you couldn’t spot a joke if it stabbed you with a spear.  This…” he gestures to the two of them, together, “...stays between us.”</p><p>Theseus mulls this over, searching for ulterior motives in that unreadable face.  “Daemon, if you mean to make a similar offer upon our next meeting, know that I--”</p><p>“Only if <em> I </em> take <em> you </em> next time.”</p><p>Theseus blinks.  “I--I beg your pardon?  What monstrous trickery is this?  For what reason would I--”</p><p>“<em> Please </em> ,” says the daemon, and the word is decidedly less submissive than when Theseus last heard it.  “You can pretend all you like, but this was all your idea, and you know it.  If you want me so terribly that just the thought gets you up, then you could at least find a way to be honest in the future.  And then maybe I’ll allow you to, uh, <em> pleasure me with your terrible body </em>.”</p><p>“That--I--you--!”</p><p>The daemon shoots him a blank, bright smile and raises a formal hand.  “Alright, later!”</p><p>And he’s gone at a dash, leaving a burst of Lord Poseidon’s buffeting brine behind him.  Theseus staggers back, soaked and incensed.  He must surely be tricking the gods, to abuse their powers so often and so freely.  Disgusting.  Absolutely revolting.</p><p>...<em> Gods </em> but he felt good...</p><p>“King.”</p><p>Theseus jolts out of his sordid recollections with a shout, whipping around to face--ah.  He straightens, embarrassed.</p><p>“Friend Asterius!  You...you ought to know better by now than to sneak up on a highly trained warrior such as myself!”</p><p>“My apologies, King.  I...had not known I was capable of sneaking.”  Asterius pauses, seeming to frown.  “...Hm.”</p><p>He sniffs the air, and Theseus remembers, too late, what a keen sense of smell his friend has.  “Ah--er--you know, bull, we really ought to prepare for our next fight!  Why don’t we go inside and--”</p><p>“Short One,” says Asterius.  Theseus quails.</p><p>“How--I mean to say, what?  That can’t be right--”</p><p>“He was here.”</p><p>“I think I would know if--” Theseus starts, but under that dark, impenetrable gaze, it all seems so useless.  He averts his eyes, grimacing.  “...And do you smell...anything else, friend Asterius?”</p><p>Asterius snorts.  “Just the salt water.  He attacked you with the power of Poseidon?  Outside of the arena?  It seems unlike him.”</p><p>Theseus sags with relief.  “Salt water--yes!  Haha--yes!  Well, you must learn, Asterius, his deceit runs deep!  He tried to sneak around the arena to avoid our fight!  And upon seeing me, he ambushed me and ran!  The fiend!”</p><p>“...I must confront him on this matter when next we meet,” rumbles Asterius.  </p><p><em> When next we meet…  </em> Theseus pauses, the daemon’s final offer echoing back to him.  The thought of being taken, penetrated by such a--well, it’s just--how <em> dare </em>he!  That’s all, how dare he.  Why, Theseus refuses to even think about the shame of it...what it might feel like to…  Again, his mind betrays him, presents him with possibilities he would never have even considered before.  Theseus freezes in hot, breathless humiliation, gazing blankly over Asterius’ shoulder.</p><p>“My friend.  Are you...well?”</p><p>“Er.  Yes.  Yes, Bull, I…  Quite well.”</p><p>Asterius’ eyes drop below Theseus’ waistline, then rise again, questioning, full of dark heat.  “...In that case,” he rumbles, “perhaps we ought to retire for the day or night.  King.”</p><p>“Yes.”  Theseus swallows, licks his lips.  “A...an excellent idea, friend Asterius!  Let us...retire to bed.”</p><p>Asterius snorts, pleased, and Theseus almost sighs at the thought of feeling that hot breath on the back of his neck.  He’ll deal with the fiend from the depths again some other time; for now, he’ll surrender only to the greatest warrior he knows.</p><p>For now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>king theseus of *athens has been dead for 200 slutty slutty years.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. rematch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zagreus should be alert, ready to strike first, but he can’t resist wasting precious seconds on one last taunt.</p><p>“If this were one-on-one, I’d have you begging to be finished off, king!” he calls, and takes a split second to savor the look on Theseus’ face.  He’s going to uncork that memory like a bottle of ambrosia in hard times to come.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>my one true kink is "Bastard On Top", but I also like it when Theseus gets owned, which allowed me to go against my nature here.  the extra tags applicable to this chapter are: orgasm denial, D/s, intercrural, and Zag Can Switch.  also some quick Asterius/Theseus.<br/>behold: a hatefucking comedy duo</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Time after time we defeat you, daemon,” says King Theseus, formerly of Athens.  “And yet you return!  Why, it’s almost as though you take <em> pleasure </em> in being conquered!”</p><p>Zagreus shouldn’t let this distract him.  He should wave away the dubious double-entendre with cool grace and only speak to Asterius.  He should proceed as usual.</p><p>Instead, he says, loudly, “Well, perhaps you’re right.  After all, I can hardly take any pleasure in winning these days.  It’s not as though you <em> last very long</em>.”</p><p>This is actually a stab in the dark, but from color rising in Theseus’ cheeks, he’s struck a nerve.  <em> Excellent</em>.</p><p>“I’ll have you know I am <em> renowned </em>for my stamina, monster!”  He flushes even deeper.  “--In battle!”</p><p>“Do not let him shake you,” Asterius rumbles in familiar tones of caution, and readies his great axe.  Sulkily, Theseus follows suit.   Zagreus should be alert, ready to strike first, but he can’t resist wasting precious seconds on one last taunt.</p><p>“If this were one-on-one, I’d have you begging to be finished off, king!” he calls, and takes a split second to savor the look on Theseus’ face.  He’s going to uncork that memory like a bottle of ambrosia in hard times to come.</p><p>And then the bastard’s spear whisks past his face, and <em> alright</em>, <em> that’s it</em>.  Zagreus flips Stygius and feels the sickly-sweet buzz of Dionysus’ power up his arm, the electric sting of a Zeus-blessed bloodstone in his other palm.</p><p>He’s going all the way this time.  He can feel it.</p><p>--</p><p>Losing to the beast from Tartarus has not grown easier over time.</p><p>Fortunately, Theseus can think of no better way to recover than an intimate engagement with his most loyal friend.  Straddling Asterius’ hips, full of him, watched with awe and admiration--few things make him feel more kingly than this.  Through the walls of his chambers he can hear the crowd roaring for some other, lesser warrior.  Theseus basks in the sound all the same, picking up the pace.  Up-down, up-down, up-down--  Asterius huffs helplessly beneath him, huge hands roaming his body with impossible tenderness.</p><p>“Do I not--receive you--magnificently?  Friend Asterius?” Theseus prompts, his breath hitching with every bounce.  “Tell me, how--do I feel--”</p><p><em> “Perfect,” </em> Asterius lows, and the word nestles happily in Theseus’ breast, correct and familiar.  “Always...perfect-- <em> ngh--King--!  Oohhh--” </em></p><p>The bull’s hands tighten on his waist, wrapping almost all the way around.  Pinning their bodies flush together with breathtaking ease as Asterius arches, trembling, spilling into him.  <em> “Theseus,” </em>he breathes, then at last goes slack with a gusting sigh.  Truly, there is no one else like Asterius; no one with a comparable character, or honor, or...physique...</p><p>And yet, as he takes himself readily in hand, Thesus finds himself imagining--<em> a dark, shaggy head bowed obediently before him, a hot, eager tongue… </em>   <em> I’d have you begging... </em></p><p>Asterius says something, but Theseus loses the words of it, absorbed in reluctant, feverish fantasies of his most hated enemy.  In his mind, he’s buried to the hilt in the daemon’s mouth, those mismatched eyes gazing pleadingly up at him...</p><p>“Mm...what was that--?”</p><p>“Short One,” Asterius says, and the shock of hearing it tips Theseus over the edge.  He falls against the bull’s muscular chest, convulsing as he climaxes.</p><p>“<em> Hhhhwhat </em> -- <em> ungh--! </em>   <em> Ah…ah…” </em></p><p>“My apologies, King...I should have helped see to you before asking.”</p><p>Theseus waves this away, still panting.  He’s not sure he could bear to have Asterius touch him while he indulges in such shameful thoughts.  “What...about him...Asterius?”</p><p>“I said that you seem more troubled by him, of late.”</p><p>Theseus scoffs.  “Troubled?  <em> Me?</em>  Of late?  By <em> him? </em>”</p><p>Asterius gives him a quite bullish look he can’t hope to parse.  “...Yes.”</p><p>Unwavering as ever...just another thing he finds so admirable in his friend.  Theseus moves at last to slide off of Asterius’ length, allowing him time to think.  His thighs tremble as he lifts himself, still hot and sticky.  “<em>Mmmh</em>.  And why would he trouble me?  He is but a nuisance whose thoughtless rampages must be punished!”</p><p>“I have seen you waiting for him at the side of the arena.”</p><p>Theseus freezes.  “I--”</p><p>“Please, be at ease.  I understand.”</p><p>“You...do?”</p><p>Dark, liquid eyes fix on him with the compassion of a fellow warrior.  “You were ambushed.  You desire a rematch.  You long for it.  I saw it on your face when the two of you spoke before our battle.”</p><p>Theseus licks his lips.  <em> If this were one-on-one, I’d have you begging to be finished.  </em> “...Yes.  Yes.  He challenged me, did he not, Asterius?”</p><p>Asterius snorts approvingly.  “He did, King.”</p><p>“It would be--dishonorable of me, not to answer.”</p><p>“Indeed.”  Asterius reaches out, sweeps a strand of white-gold hair out of Theseus’ face with one broad finger.  “And should you wish it...I may be able to help you.”</p><p>--</p><p>It’s been an unusually quick trip through Elysium, all things considered.  Uneventful, almost--Zagreus hasn’t even run into one of those rooms stuffed to the brim with flamewheels.  Just spears, swords, and shields, mainly.  Average.</p><p>Until now.</p><p>Theseus slams the butt of his spear into the ground with a ringing crack.  “Here I am, daemon!  Do your worst, but know that I shall never beg!”</p><p>“Hold on,” says Zagreus.</p><p>“I have worn my second-best tunic in anticipation of your <em> mess-making </em>!”</p><p>“It looks the same as your usual one?” says Zagreus.  “And can we--”</p><p>“Approach me!”</p><p>“Why are you <em>here?”  </em>Zagreus double-checks his surroundings, as if it were even necessary--there are the twin pillars, there the familiar stone walkway...there, even, the scorches he left on the greenery during his last fight here.  “Asterius is alright, isn’t he?”  A terrible thought occurs to him.  “...It’s not going to be you from now on, is it?”</p><p>“I come seeking a rematch,” Theseus declares.  “<em> My best friend </em> is quite well--all the better for not having to face <em> you </em>, I am sure!”</p><p>Zagreus sighs through his nose.  “Mm.  Yes, what a sacrifice.  What a sword you’ve fallen on, for poor Asterius.”</p><p>“You need not speak his name with your sinful mouth, daemon!”</p><p>Once again, Zagreus reminds himself that he could simply disregard it.  Whatever Theseus wants here, he’s also armed.  He’s clearly anticipated a scenario where they end up fighting.  Zagreus could just draw Varatha, and that would be the end of it.  It would be easy.</p><p>Instead, he says, “Is my <em> sinful mouth </em> often on your mind, king?”</p><p>Theseus swallows visibly.  His jaw works.  “I--  Y-you--”</p><p>“You told me just now to <em> do my worst </em>,” Zagreus continues, advancing.  “What exactly were you imagining, there?”</p><p>“I--first of all, you ought to know, none but one may take me!  If you have clung to that sordid fantasy--”</p><p>“That’s fine,” says Zagreus.  They’re chest to chest now, giving him the opportunity to confirm that Theseus is indeed <em> barely </em> a hand-width taller than him.  And yet <em> he’s </em>“Short One”...right.  “What about your thighs?”</p><p>“They are superb,” says Theseus blankly.</p><p>“No, I mean--”  Zagreus glares at him.  Why is this something he has to explain?  “You never...took Asterius between your thighs, before you’d, er, gotten to the point where he could...fit?”</p><p>“Your obsession with my and Asterius’ relations is appalling!   And such lewd assumptions about his anatomy!”</p><p>“I just…  Is he not…?”</p><p>“Of course he is!” thunders Theseus.  “But I take every challenge <em> head-on! </em>”</p><p>Zagreus doesn’t have the time or energy to question this.  “Fine,” he snaps.  “Then here’s a challenge for you: you keep your hands above your head, <em> no touching. </em>  And if I can make you beg me to finish you, I get to fuck your thighs.  Sound good?”</p><p>--</p><p>The daemon has been consistently insulting, but never this <em> crude</em>.  The words sound so perfectly filthy in his dry, quiet voice that Theseus is almost dazed for a moment.  He has to make himself breathe before he speaks again.  “You--you will not find me so easily surprised this time!  I have expunged your seduction from my body!”</p><p>The daemon smiles faintly and narrows burning eyes--eyes that seem to pierce through Theseus to  every mortifying fantasy and secret self-pleasuring.  “Really.”</p><p>“<em>Really</em>, blackguard!  And tell me, what shall <em> I </em> receive upon winning?  I must also be promised a prize from the wager!”</p><p>“If you win, you can have me like last time,” says the daemon, shockingly casual.  “Well?”</p><p>Theseus finds himself suddenly conscious of the lithe, warm body inches from his.  What it might be like to claim that body here, in the open…  Too often has he awakened from dreams with such sights lingering in his mind--the daemon on all fours beneath him, nude and vulnerable, gripping the soft moss, moaning supplications--</p><p>Theseus casts aside his shield with a clatter and sets his spear over his shoulders, gripping the shaft with both hands.  “You are so impatient to pleasure me once again, daemon?  Very well!  I shall not release my spear till you have serviced me to completion!”</p><p>“And by your <em>spear</em>, you mean--”</p><p>“I was speaking literally, this time!”</p><p>“Of course.  How foolish of me.  Just--at least take off the damn belt, won’t you?”</p><p>--</p><p>Along with the damn belt comes that damn bottle of oil.  Theseus sets it aside with a meaningful look (which Zagreus chooses to ignore), then sits back against a pillar, returning both hands to his spear.  He’s already half-hard, Zagreus notes.  Gods.  Okay.  This is going to take a lot of finesse.</p><p>Meg taught him that.  He had wanted, at first, only to be disciplined with wild abandon and fucked with all her considerable strength.  And she had, and it was as good as he’d imagined.  But she’d also showed him the power of a gentle touch on a desperate body, the delicious agony of waiting.  By now Zagreus craves that agony; that soft smile on Meg’s face when she gives him the slightest friction and he wails his gratitude....</p><p>“Well, hellspawn?!”</p><p>Oh.  Right.  Theseus.</p><p>Zagreus settles down between his legs with a huff, restraining the retort that rises automatically to his lips.  <em> Patience.  He’ll ask nicely eventually </em>.</p><p>For all his bravado, Theseus still can’t stifle a gasp when Zagreus’ hand closes on him--though he tries to hide it with an ostentatious cough.</p><p>“<em> Ehrrhm--ah-- </em>you are free lift my tunic.  Perhaps you h--have--forgotten the sight that so enticed you last time!”</p><p>Zagreus could do this with his eyes closed, and is taking full advantage of it to watch Theseus’ face.  Each tiny gasp and grimace tells him more about what pressure works best, how fast he should move.  “I think I’ll resist the urge for now...show respect for your dignity as a king, and all that.”</p><p>“This is some...<em>ploy</em>, and I’ll--I’ll <em> not </em>be deceived…”</p><p>“Yes, you're very clever.”  Zagreus leans in, still patiently stroking with one hand, and delicately closes his teeth on Theseus’ collarbone.  Theseus actually yelps, squirming underneath him.</p><p>“D--<em> daemon!! </em>”</p><p>“Oh, pardon me,” says Zagreus, mercilessly polite.  He punctuates the apology with another bite.  “Should I have warned you?”  He sucks at Theseus' naked throat without waiting for an answer, and is rewarded with a helpless twist of the head and a spate of heaving breaths.</p><p>
  <em> “Filth--nnnh--!” </em>
</p><p>“You’re leaking through your second-best tunic, king,” Zagreus murmurs, glancing down at last.  “Good thing you wore it, hm?  I’ll just...keep it up, shall I?”</p><p>--</p><p>Time passes, intolerably.</p><p>Theseus’ hands are sweaty on his spear.  He knows one thing: that at the very least, he has endured far better than he did in their last encounter.  He also knows something else: that this is deliberate torture of the first degree.  It can’t have been more than a few minutes, but he feels he has been under these ministrations for an eternity.</p><p>But of course he will not break.  He is Theseus, greatest king and founder-hero of Athens, and--oh, <em> now </em> the daemon reaches under his clothes--</p><p><em> “Yes!” </em> he gasps, unthinking, his voice cracking in a most undignified way.  The daemon catches his eye and smirks, <em> squeezes </em> .  For a moment Theseus thinks <em> this is it </em>--but no, it’s back to that torturously light touch, and he’s going mad, he’ll snap his spear in two if this continues.  This daemon, this cursed deceitful thing from the realm of eternal punishment--  These teeth on his flesh--  Open-mouthed against his chest--</p><p>He can feel his hips rocking without his permission, pushing into the daemon’s grip.  The humiliation should be devastating, but he’s on the cusp of winning, and more importantly: he <em> needs </em> it now, after waiting and waiting and <em> oh</em>--</p><p><em> “Yes-- </em> aa-aa<em>aahh-- </em> like that like that <em> good monster, good--  Ah--?” </em></p><p>Theseus hadn’t even realized he’d tipped his head back.  It takes him a moment to come back to himself and peer blearily down again.  “<em> Nh</em>--daemon...what...”</p><p>False innocence shines back at him, offensively overt.  “I thought you might need a little break.”</p><p>“Hah!<em> Indeed! </em>   D--do not imagine that I am not--aware of your vile tactics here!  Do not think--that you may simply leave me like this indefinitely and pretend you have won!  <em> Though I would expect nothing less of-- </em> aa<em>ah! </em>”</p><p>He’s interrupted by a shock of toe-curling, spine-arching stimulation and--<em> nearly--! </em></p><p>And then the daemon lets go of him <em> again</em>, looking horribly, brightly smug, and says, “See?  I really thought you might come just then.  You could have, right?”</p><p>“If you <em> knew </em>, then you ought--”</p><p>--</p><p>“Then I ought what,” says Zagreus quietly, trying to put a little of Meg’s authoritative purr into the words.  “What ought I have done?”</p><p>Theseus hesitates.  He’s slid almost all the way down to the pillar, hands still clinging for dear life to that spear.  Glossy with sweat, knees bent, tunic rucked up around his waist.  The ruddy flush of his groin also blooms across his thighs and belly.  Zagreus reaches out bemusedly, stroking the hot skin just adjacent to the king’s swollen cock, and a stuttering, agonized moan reaches his ears.</p><p>“Well?  What should I do?” he prompts again, drags his nails over one hipbone.  </p><p>“You are--nothing--” Theseus gasps.  He’s trembling.  “I--to the likes of you--!”</p><p>Zagreus licks his lips and leans down.  This time, perhaps it’s actually best to do things the way Than likes it--start with soft, nuzzling kisses and build with almost painful slowness.  (Not that he minds, with Than. Than is always worth the wait.)</p><p>Theseus actually curses aloud at the first touch of his lips.  He bucks up again, urgent and furious, bumping awkwardly against Zagreus’ cheek.  “Daemon--<em> do it </em>--”</p><p>Zagreus shoots him a glare.  “Impatience won’t get you anywhere, you know.  I’m sure it usually works for you, but--”</p><p><em> “Do it, damn you--damn you-- </em> angh--! <em> ” </em></p><p>“You can always let go of the spear,” Zagreus murmurs against him.  “Or--lay hands on it, depending on which one we’re talking about here.  Your choice.”</p><p>No response, aside from an aborted, frantic jerk when Zagreus licks a long strip up his shaft. Then he takes Theseus into his mouth, and the man breaks all at once.</p><p>“<em> Filthy deceitful monstrous hellspawn--!  </em> Please!  <em> Ngh--please, please--!  Daemon please damn you-- </em> hhh- <em> aaAH--!” </em></p><p>Not once since meeting Theseus has Zagreus imagined he might hear that cocky, self-satisfied voice melted down into a whimper.  Somehow it’s all the better for that, the hugeness of the pride now abandoned, the challenge overcome.  Zagreus heaves Theseus’ right leg over, stacking his thighs on each other.  “Almost,” he breathes, reaching into his leggings. “But it’s <em> Zagreus. </em>”</p><p>“‘Agreus,” Theseus slurs, giving the distinct impression that he hasn’t registered the meaning of today’s vocabulary.  “<em> Nhhhplease!” </em></p><p>“Good king.”  Zagreus pauses.  “Well--good enough.”</p><p>--</p><p>The hot, slick sensation of the daemon thrusting between his legs is--strange--pleasing--he wouldn’t have imagined he was so sensitive there, but--  Gods--were Asterius here, were Asterius inside him--<em> gods-- </em></p><p>“Together,” says the daemon, bracing himself with a hand on Theseus’ hip.  “<em> Ah--ah--  </em> H-how’s that?  That way you can pretend it’s a tie of sorts.  That’s-- <em> ngh-- </em>the kind of thing you like--right?”</p><p>Theseus groans, barely comprehending but burning at the condescension.  The daemon’s fingers grip at his left buttock, slender but strong...surely he knows how to use them…  Theseus’ eyes are drawn inexorably to the oil he set aside.  What to say--how can he possibly confess to wanting--  But no, what now is the point of feigning decency?  He is ruined and might as well accept it.</p><p>Theseus shuts his eyes tightly.  “<em> Daemon! </em>   I--I permit you to enter <em> mmme--aaahhh! </em>”</p><p>A familiar hand closes on him, with none of the hesitance from before, and works him with almost terrifying efficiency to orgasm.  Theseus’ spear clatters away as he lets his arms drop at last, contorting, desperately clutching at the ground beneath him.  He cries out, utterly unabashed.  The world is only sensation; the world is the hand touching him, and nothing else.</p><p>Distantly, he hears a quiet, shuddering moan, and feels a hot spatter across his thighs.  <em> A tie, </em>he thinks muzzily, and drops back onto the ground, sated.</p><p>--</p><p>Time passes.  Labored breathing begins to steady, then slow.  </p><p>“...I heard that,” says Zagreus, eventually.  Theseus doesn’t respond, but one dour blue eye twitches his way.  “At the end there--you wanted me to…?”</p><p>Theseus rolls his head petulantly to one side, averting his gaze.  “I know not of what you speak, hellspawn!”</p><p>This blowhard.  This absolute <em> bastard. </em> “I wouldn’t blame you,” says Zagreus snidely.  “I’m sure once you’re used to the bull, it’s difficult to go without--”</p><p>Theseus’ head whips back around to glare at him.  “<em>Again </em> you speculate!  One--one might almost think you wished to play your sick games with the both of us!”</p><p>There’s a long, sparkling moment of silence.</p><p>“...Well,” says Zagreus.</p><p>“No!”  Theseus wobbles to his feet as though resurrected by indignation.  “I forbid you to think of it!”</p><p>“You’re the one who brought it up!”</p><p>Theseus scoffs and stomps about, collecting his things.  “You are <em> insatiable! </em>   I see it now!  Perhaps it is too late for me, but <em> someone </em>must defend Asterius from your dastardly, corrupting influence!”</p><p>“That is <em> really </em> not the case,” says Zagreus, watching him from the floor.  “I promise--”</p><p>“Hah!  The promise of a <em> daemon! </em>”</p><p>He can’t even be pleasant in the afterglow.  Zagreus really shouldn’t be surprised, by now.  “I liked you better when you were begging, king.”</p><p>“Why--the same to <em> you</em>, filth!”  Theseus’ striding comes to a halt overtop of Zagreus, one foot to each side of his waist.  “And I am <em> hungry </em>to put you in your rightful place when next we meet!”</p><p>Zagreus scowls up at him, hating how, even after everything, it inspires a twinge of arousal in his gut to be pinned under the man.  He needs to be reasonable about this.  Already he has two wonderful steady partners, and perhaps there could be more in the future, but...better to let <em> this </em> end here.</p><p>Of course he’d still think about it every time he passes through Elysium, but what’s a little extra awkwardness between mortal foes?  Just turn the man down point-blank.  Just do it, Zagreus.  Just tell him, <em> Actually, as fun as this was for some reason, I’m done.  I’m happy just to defeat you in battle on a daily/nightly basis.  Let’s stay enemies, okay?</em></p><p>Just tell him.</p><p>Instead, he says, “You can try.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>shot aaaaaaand chaser.<br/>you may be wondering: DOES ASTERIUS KNOW.  I truly have no idea.<br/>I have some difficulty replying to reviews but I just want to say that each and every one has meant so much to me.  I don't often write fic, let alone smut, and it's honestly overwhelming to get such kind feedback.  I think two parts is all I have in me right now, and maybe I shouldn't have posted this one as a second chapter, but I wanted the opportunity to thank earlier reviewers en masse.  I hope you enjoyed this one too.</p><p>(theseus: I can take ANY DICK with enough KINGLY WILLPOWER<br/>zag: sounds fake but okay????????)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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